


and i'll go there without stopping

by orphan_account



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Asian American Lawyers Verse, Closet Sex, M/M, Post-Canon, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-10 12:49:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In retrospect, Apollo realizes that Prosecutor Gavin is a lot nosier than he likes to think he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and i'll go there without stopping

**Author's Note:**

> a loose sequel to my other fic '[there's a hole in this story](http://archiveofourown.org/works/466469).'

It's every attorney's dream come true when their trial wraps up in half a day, and Apollo isn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. So he grabs his case files and stacks them neatly in a pile. He's about to leave when he notices Prosecutor Gavin standing across the defense bench from him.  
  
Of the three options he has, he rules out _ignore_  and considers _pretend to get an urgent text message_  before he decides to play it cool.  
  
"Prosecutor Gavin," he greets, trying to appear busy. If he looks busy enough, he will definitely have an excuse for not wanting to look at his face, or his smile, or think about the way his fingers feel against his skin--or where exactly he wants those fingers.  
  
"Defense Attorney Justice." He sounds amused, and why shouldn't he be? The court did just watch Apollo frantically try to salvage his hair when another one of his interesting witnesses decided to spray him with enough water to make a hurricane cry. Amusement apparently doesn't serve as a deterrent for his staring.  
  
The pretense quickly gets old and Apollo finally looks up at Klavier. He immediately regrets it, because his eyes run over his face, his smile, his ridiculous /hair/, and it doesn't help him _one bit_ when Prosecutor Gavin steps in closer.  
  
It's probably just his luck, then, that nothing in this world could have prepared Apollo for his question: "So, Forehead, _have_  you ever used the meeting room for sex?"  
  
All of the blood drains from his face as he _gapes_  at Prosecutor Gavin, who is smiling so very pleasantly, like he just asked Apollo about the weather or how his grandmother's cat is doing, and _not_  like he just asked him about his _sex life_ \--or lack thereof. To top it all off, he was _eavesdropping_  on his conversation with Mr. Edgeworth. It takes all the self control he possesses to keep from punching him in the nose right then and there.  
  
"I, um." _Okay, that's better than...than what you could have said, yeah._  "No, I can't say that I have." Apollo thinks he deserves some sort of prize for that one; one with the words 'Nobel' and 'Peace' on it for 'valiant survival in the face of overwhelming panic' or 'resisting the urge to punch the smirk off of Klavier Gavin's admittedly beautiful face.'  
  
"I see." The smugness doesn't dissipate and neither does his blood pressure. If he doesn't wake up in three, two, one, Apollo is going to...he doesn't know what yet, but he's going to do something. "Well, would you like to?"  
  
Apparently that something involves staring blankly at Prosecutor Gavin. _Pinch me, I'm dreaming._ "I'm, uh--sorry, _what_?" Apollo can't decide if he should be blushing or laughing and saying "Haha, good one there, Prosecutor Gavin" or--or what, really.  
  
Looking to Prosecutor Gavin for a cue doesn't help either. He looks at Apollo blithely, like he didn't just _proposition him for sex in public_ , and it makes _Apollo_  feel like he's the one reacting horribly. Which he's _not_  because how else is one supposed to react when Klavier Gavin asks them if they want to _have sex_  in the Court House Meeting Room?  
  
Klavier raises a brow, before he smiles and touches Apollo's hand, unclenching his fingers from around the briefcase handle. He takes that hand in his own and starts stroking up his arm, fingers warm and exactly like Apollo remembers them being against his cheek the day before. When fingers meet his bracelet, Klavier slides his thumb beneath the wood and starts _petting his wrist_. He feels for Apollo's pulse and sends every single one of his operating thought processes crashing together. Apollo nods quickly, feeling like he's won the lottery when Prosecutor Gavin grins at him and pulls on his hand.  
  
They make their way out of the courtroom and walk straight past the meeting room.  
  
"Isn't that where it is?"  
  
"You should know that your father--"  
  
"He's not my dad!" Klavier ignores his protest.  
  
"--and Herr Edgeworth have been rigging the betting pools for months now," Klavier says, scanning the corridor for a relatively remote vacancy.  
  
"They--what?!" Apollo could have expected about as much from Mr. Wright, but _Mr. Edgeworth_? Klavier doesn't seem to share his distress, and instead smiles at the door in front of them, opening it before pushing Apollo inside.  
  
"Yes, and Herr Edgeworth also failed to mention the betting pool they are currently running speculating your virginity," he says, and kisses Apollo hard on the mouth.  
  
It's hesitant for all but two seconds before Apollo parts his lips and presses his tongue to Klavier's and licks inside. He feels him slant his mouth over Apollo's, all wet and _hot_ and teeth clicking together. It tastes like victory when he cards a hand in Klavier's hair and listens to him gasp.  
  
"Is this--this your claim to the bet?" Apollo asks, panting.  
  
A laugh. It tickles his ear and sends shivers running down his back. "No. No, this is me getting you off in a broom closet because I've been wanting to for quite some time."  
  
 _Oh_. So all those times in court weren't just an unfortunate choice of words.  
  
And that's the last thought he has as Klavier unbuckles his belt and reaches inside his pants. When his fingers wrap around his dick, he realizes how hard he is--has been, and gasps, like all the air's been pushed out of him.  
  
"All right there?" he asks, lips brushing against the shell of his ear. Apollo nods, whining deep in his throat because Klavier is _jerking him off_.  
  
And just like that, he talks him through it, telling him to slow down or breathe or to enjoy himself. He wants to do something other than fist at his shirt and grind up into his hand, but doesn't think he can manage much else. So he does as he's told and _fucks Klavier's fist_ , listens to him murmur quiet encouragements.  
  
"Shhh, yes, just like that," he breathes, looking down where his fingers are stroking Apollo's prick. Apollo would watch too, except he's trying hard not to throw his head back and scream, or come, and preferably not both at the same time.  
  
His toes curl when Klavier twists his wrist and thumbs at his head, and he muffles a whimper into his shoulder as he sucks on his neck and tells Apollo how pretty he looks when he makes noises for him.  
  
"Prosecu--Gavin. Klavier--I'm..." Apollo means to warn him, but he feels Klavier smiling against his cheek and comes hard. He works Apollo through his orgasm, slowing down until he's a sated, trembling mess.  
  
In about three minutes, he'll come to his senses enough to feel embarrassment again, but for now, he's perfectly content where he is: slumped against Klavier and letting him press a kiss to his temple.  
  
"Definitely better than the meeting room," he says, sounding inordinately pleased. He pulls out a handkerchief and wipes his hand, attempts to salvage the pretense that he didn't just give Apollo a handjob in a broom closet.  
  
Apollo straightens up, about to comment on the futility of the situation when he sees in the dimness just how _wrecked_  Klavier is. His face is flushed and his pupils are blown, all signs of composure broken by the way his breath hitches in his throat.  
  
He doesn't--can't-- _oh_ , because _oh, he did that_. Swallowing, he takes the handkerchief from Klavier and pushes it into his pocket.  
  
"Are--" He licks his lip. "Are you willing to wait for a bed?"  
  
Prosecutor Gavin looks at him for a moment, like he's approximating the sincerity of the offer. A beat passes and Klavier nods. "I am."  
  
Once his throat starts working again, Apollo speaks. "Good, then. Um." And of course his embarrassment chooses now to kick in, ride up as a new flush in his cheeks and ears. He scratches his head and gives a sheepish grin. "Guess we should leave?"  
  
He expects a glib retort here, and gets a kiss for his efforts instead. Klavier's lips are soft against his, and the kiss stays soft too. Until it doesn't and Klavier's pushing his tongue into his mouth and making desperate sounds against him.  
  
 _So much for waiting_ , he thinks, as Klavier pulls away slowly.  
  
"Ready?" he asks. And he looks at Prosecutor Gavin--at Klavier, because he isn't even sure what he's asking himself.  
  
But Klavier looks so confident, like he knows exactly what this is, that this is it. He pats Apollo's cheek again. "When you are."  
  
So he smiles and pushes open the door, and Apollo finds that he's been ready for a long, long time.

\----

\--

-


End file.
